


jon snow and the seven black brothers of the night's watch

by janie_tangerine



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon, Alternate Universe - Fairy Tale, Alternate Universe - Snow White Fusion, Crack, F/M, Fairy Tale Parody, Gen, I Blame Tumblr, I Don't Even Know, Jon Snow knows nothing, R plus L equals J, The Author Regrets Everything, True Love's Kiss, Tumblr Ask Box Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-07
Updated: 2017-04-07
Packaged: 2018-10-16 02:52:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,411
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10562208
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/janie_tangerine/pseuds/janie_tangerine
Summary: “So he’s dead, but not?”Edd does not sound convinced.“He’s not dead,” Sam says. “He has a pulse. But that’s about - the only thing there is? And it’s not a regular pulse.”“Well,” Donal Noye sighs, “I’d get rid of that bloody apple.”“Yes,” Sam agrees at once. “Absolutely. Do that.Do that.”





	

**Author's Note:**

> ... always for the chapter where I'm reposting stuff from tumblr, this summer someone sent over _Jon as Snow White, Aerys as the evil queen (not only about beauty but about power as well), the dwarves are the Nights Watch with Grumpy being Thorne. And Ygritte as the Prince. Jon as a damsel is sth i Live for. Ned as the Huntsman who doesn’t have the heart to kill Jon because Jon is friends with his son Robb lol. R having died (maybe sth Aerys related) Also Jon doesn’t only clean and cook but he also teaches the dwarves how to protect themselves. And Thorne or grumpy crying a lot when Jon is dead._ I have no excuse except 'I envisioned a scene from this and had to write it down'. I swear I was sober when I came up with this, make of that what you will. The title is REALLY WHAT IT SAYS THIS IS and the only thing belonging to me here is the darned crack. xD

Out of _everything_ , Sam thinks, what’s stranger is probably that Thorne is _openly weeping._

Given the situation, he should probably be more worried about just _everything else_ , first of all that Jon’s lying on the ground with a face entirely too pale, lips whose color is bordering on blue and absolutely _not moving_.

Which means that whoever has been trying to kill him for for the last few months in increasingly imaginative ways - honestly, the _dragon_ outside the post was what had made Sam think that maybe things really were getting out of hand. Except that the dragon just _looked_ at Jon for a long, long moment and then flew away - Jon had said he had no idea of what was it even about, but Sam had understood at once it wasn’t the case.

He hadn’t voiced his doubts anyway, because if they were true then it made perfect sense that Jon would have been running from _someone_ when he ran into Castle Black.

“Is he -” Pyp starts.

Sam kneels down and takes Jon’s pulse. For a long moment, he feels nothing, but then he gets a faint beat. Then another, but just after an equally long moment.

“He’s not dead,” he declares, “but this isn’t normal.” He runs a hand along Jon’s face. It’s _cold_.

“And what would this even -” Grenn says, reaching down for an apple barely distant from Jon’s fingers.

“I wouldn’t touch that if I were you,” Sam sighs. “It has just _one_ bite, hasn’t it?”

Thorne is still openly crying. Sam doesn’t know what to make of it since he was the one out of their small group who was adamantly against letting Jon stay, a while ago.

Satin swallows and puts a hand on the man’s arm. Thorne doesn’t shrug it away.

“So he’s dead, but not?”

Edd does not sound convinced.

“He’s _not_ dead,” Sam says. “He has a pulse. But that’s about - the only thing there is? And it’s not a regular pulse.”

“Well,” Donal Noye sighs, “I’d get rid of that bloody apple.”

“Yes,” Sam agrees at once. “Absolutely. Do that. _Do that_.”

Donal puts on gloves before taking it and throw it away with all the food leftovers, not that there’s many.

“Ser Aliser -” He starts when he comes back.

“I’m - I was so _horrible_ to him,” he sobs.

 _And now you won’t be anymore_ , Sam doesn’t say, because he’s nowhere near the kind of person who says that out loud, even if he and Ser Thorne hardly have had the best relationship.

Surely it improved after Jon taught him a few self-defense pointers.

The only sound they’re hearing is Thorne’s sniffling, and Sam is about to tell Grenn to at least move Jon on a bed when he hears furious banging on the door.

“I’ll get it,” Grenn says, sounding a lot less cheerful than his usual. Gods, he just hopes that it’s not further bad news, because if they are -

A moment later, someone runs into the yard, Grenn trailing after him, and - oh, right, Robb Stark, the only person who’s ever visited Jon regularly since he arrived here. From what Sam has gathered, they’ve been friends for a long time, but Jon never went into details about it.

“Fuck,” Robb says, looking down at the scene. He kneels down, takes Jon’s wrist, shakes his head. “ _Fuck_. I hoped I’d make it -”

“Sorry,” Edd asks, clearing his throat, “but would you mind explaining us what went down here? Because you seem to _know_ something, and while we figured he needed help and asking questions was useless, the fact that he’s there and _not quite dead_ -”

“Right,” Robb sighs. “Let’s - let’s just move him inside and I’ll tell you. You deserve to know, if anything.”

He helps Donal bring Jon into the barracks and to his room - they lay him down on the small but well-kept bed and Robb sighs, sitting down on the only chair. It’s crowded, eight people in such a small room, but no one moves.

“You know the king’s mad,” he starts.

“He’s been for years,” Pyp agrees.

“Why is it that we are supposed to protect the bloody fucking realm and it’s seven of us in an abandoned post in the middle of a lot of ice?” Edd sighs. “Just a madman could think we _suffice_.”

“Well,” Robb sighs, “He believes in some prophecy saying that his seed is eventually going to be his downfall, which is why he managed to kill his nephews _and_ his son, and - well. Jon. He was Rhaegar’s last, but his mother was a commoner, so Aerys didn’t really think he counted. Until he decided that he somehow did. My father, uh, he’s a huntsman for the court, we live in Winterfell’s village. Jon did too, and we became friends back in the day, but a few years ago Aerys ordered him to - to bring Jon out in the woods and kill him.”

“ _What_?” Satin doesn’t seem much inclined to believe it. Sam wishes he couldn’t, but then the dragon makes sense, doesn’t it?

“My father didn’t - well, we _knew_ each other and everyone in the village knew Jon too, there was no way he’d manage, so he just told him to run, and he ended up here, and I guess you know the rest of the story.”

“Wait, he never told us that he was -” Pyp starts.

“Come on,” Satin cuts him, “if he had he’d have put all of us in danger, and if the White Walkers ever turn out to be true, we only have to thank him if we have a chance to run rather than die immediately.”

Ser Aliser would have complained, any other day.

Now he’s just still crying.

“The king has been weirder lately,” Robb sighs. “And he’s been sneaking out of the castle at night. Then my father heard him leave this morning saying that _he would get him at last_ , and - he couldn’t leave as soon as he did or it’d have been suspicious. He warned me, and I came, but -”

“So wait -” Grenn says. “The - that old man who always seems to hang outside the gates with that insane look to his face is _the king?_ ”

“Well, that explains the stack of wildfire,” Pyp sighs.

“Or the dragon,” Sam adds.

“He sent one of the dragons?” Robb doesn’t sound at all amused. “What did it do?”

“Well,” Grenn shrugs. “He looked at Jon and flew away.”

“I’m not surprised.” Robb sounds frustrated. “Fuck.”

“So, he’s - not really dead?”

Robb shakes his head. “Well, the king’s mad. People have been saying he’s been dabbling in dark magic and the likes. If he has a pulse he’s not, but I doubt he’s waking up on his own anytime soon. It has to be the next best thing.”

“I imagine you wouldn’t know how to counteract it,” Sam sighs. Robb shakes his head angrily.

“My father is a _huntsman_ and I’m pretty sure I’ll be in the same line of work. I don’t know the first thing about this.”

Thorne sobs harder. “He didn’t deserve it,” he says.

Sam is sure it’s the first time everyone in the room agrees with Thorne since his father pretty much forced him to join the Watch.

And that’s when they hear someone climbing the steps very angrily.

“Jon, _what in the seven hells_ -”

Before anyone can ask what’s a woman doing in here, the door slams open and - _oh_. The girl who’s just walked inside the room has flaming red hair, infuriated blue eyes, rosy cheeks, a couple crooked teeth and she’s definitely one of those wildlings living on their side of the Wall who sometimes help them out if they need it. The clothing is telling, and the bow she has over her shoulder does, too. And if Sam’s not wrong he did see Jon talking to her a couple of times, but they’re obviously way closer than he had imagined.

“Is he _dead_?” She asks, her face going pale at once.

“Yes and no,” Grenn replies.

“That was fucking unhelpful,” Ygritte retorts. “Either he is or he’s not.”

“And who are _you_?” Donal asks, side-eyeing her.

“Oh, I don’t know, we’ve only met a year ago and I convinced him to come with me to that cave near my camp two months ago even if we had kissed first a long time before, what do you think? I’m Ygritte, by the way.”

Sam, somehow, can exactly imagine why Jon would like someone like her.

“Well,” Robb shrugs, “that’s some magic. Courtesy of our illustrious king.”

“ _Yours_ ,” Ygritte says. “Sure he’s not ours. So wait. He looks dead.”

“There’s a pulse,” Sam tells her. “Still, it’s some weird magic. I have no clue about it.”

Ygritte nods at him once and then moves closer to the bed - Robb stands and leaves her the chair. She takes it, sits down, grabs Jon’s wrist in between her fingers.

“Well, _Jon Snow_ ,” she whispers. “That wasn’t what we agreed on.”

“They agreed on something?” Pyp whispers.

“Evidently,” Grenn replies.

“I think we had entirely different plans,” Ygritte keeps on. “And I see that y’re not dead meat yet, which is good, because I like you better living. But still, that wasn’t supposed t’happen.”

For a moment there’s complete silence as she breathes in and moves a bit so that his face is right beneath hers. She looks down at him in an almost fond way, her hand cupping his cheeks.

“Uhm,” Satin says, “I think we might have completely missed this development.”

“Obviously we did,” Pyp shushes him. “Let’s just see. She doesn’t seem too worried.”

“And if I know you,” Ygritte goes on, “y’re enough of a stubborn bastard to survive some dumb magic. And you stole _me_ , seems stupid that it’d take this little.”

“When did he steal her?” Grenn hisses.

“Fuck me if I know,” Edd whispers back.

“So just don’t, all right?” She says, and then she leans down and kisses him, which - right, maybe it wasn’t their business but she could have just told them to get out, couldn’t she. Never mind that she doesn’t stop at a peck - she actually _does_ kiss him for real, insofar as you can kiss someone who can’t kiss back, and when she leans back for a moment she doesn’t look so sure of herself, and wait, if Jon ever wakes up Sam is going to give him a long talk about actually _telling your friends that you stole yourself a wildling woman_ , however that went -

And then Jon’s hand spasms once, twice, his face stops looking ashen, his chest shudders and his eyes slam open as he takes in a breath and then another.

Ygritte lets herself look relieved for about two seconds before her mouth sets in a thin line.

“Well, good thing _that_ worked.”

“What - wait, why are you here, what the hell is going on -”

Robb snorts and clears his throat. “Your _grandfather_ saw fit to come and see to your demise personally, you ate some poisoned apple and you looked dead to the world, then she came in because you two were supposed to _see each other_ or something and seems like all that nonsense you find in those songs my sister likes isn’t entirely wrong.”

“Sorry, what would be nonsense Sansa likes?”

“Oh, I don’t know, have you heard the ones where kissing your true love solves all your problems? By the way, I understand why you wouldn’t tell _me_ , last thing you need is me accidentally letting that slip, but you could have told _them_. Since you live with them and all.”

Jon is blushing as crimson as Ygritte’s hair - Sam might think that it’s endearing, when he’s done being worried. Since Jon was almost dead a minute ago.

“Really,” she says, “I’m not impressed. You steal yourself a woman and you don’t even tell others?”

“I _didn’t_ steal you,” he sighs, “we went over that already.”

“That’s because you know nothing. You _did_.” She’s smiling now, though - Sam’s pretty sure everyone in this room is looking relieved at this point.

“By the way,” Edd interrupts him, “now that you’re not dead does that mean that the mad king is going to show up here again with more dragons? I’m afraid he’s going to know. Jon, what in the seven hells did you even do to him?”

“Existing,” Jon sighs. “Gods, maybe I should just leave -”

“You said this mad king has _dragons_?” Ygritte interrupts him.

“Uh, he definitely does,” Sam confirms her - he shudders thinking about that green one that was perched outside their post.

“Nice,” she says, “I know a few people who’d pay to try and slay one.”

“ _Sorry_?”

“Indeed.”

“By the way,” Grenn says, “you aren’t going anywhere. I have a feeling you’d get yourself killed and no one wants you dead. Not even Thorne.”

“… What? Thorne? Where is he even?”

“Outside,” Satin says, “he left when you wake up. If I hear him right, he’s crying of joy now. And he probably wants to apologize to you as soon as possible, but I guess you have _better things_ to worry about now. By the way, you could have told us.”

“Uh - I just, I wasn’t -” Jon starts, and then Sam takes pity on him.

“Right, guys, he’s just more or less died and come back to life and there’s his - _true love_ in the room, maybe we should go lock up the gate and Robb can put us up to date with whatever’s going on with the king, and _you_ wash the sheets after, understood?”

“Understood,” Ygritte says, her hand going to Jon’s arm. “Jon Snow, your friends definitely know something. I’m lookin’ forward to knowing them better. _Later_.”

And then she whispers something they don’t hear, leans down and kisses him for real, and his hands go to her hair as he kisses her back at once, and - right. _Right_.

“Guys. All of us. _Out_ ,” Sam says as he grabs Edd and Grenn and drags them out and Robb does the same with the others.

They can worry about dragons on their own for a while, Sam figures as they sit down around the table in the mess hall and he hands Thorne a clean handkerchief - he just hopes he stops crying soon because _that_ is definitely the most unsettling thing that he’s seen today.

Yes, even more than the creepy almost-death thing.

 

End.


End file.
